The Spirit Seer

The Spirit Seer Chapter 5

That evening when things quiet down in my house I sneak out the back door to meet Letterman. I am more nervous than I thought I would be. I am finally going to get to know this ghost that has been stalking me for days. I will be able to ask all the questions I've wondered about over these long days. But I'm also taking a huge step. There's no going back once I do this. I have forced myself not to see the ghosts for so long I am nervous what it means to finally interact with one.

Maybe it won’t change much. I can talk to him, help him and get back to my normal life. I try to convince myself this is true, but I have a feeling changes are coming.

I step out on the back porch and see him standing a few feet away. It's the moment of truth. I know I'm just helping one ghost with one favor, but it seems bigger than that. I’m not really sure why, maybe because it’s been so many years since I’ve let myself use this side of me.

An uneasy feeling turns my stomach. This doesn’t have to change things. Maybe a part of me has missed the ghosts some but I don’t want to be like mom. I want to live a normal life, and that means my friends can't find out.

That's why I'm willing to talk to this ghost in the first place, to get my normal life back.

This isn't about helping him. It's about getting him off my back so he won't make me mess up in front of my friends and have them start to suspect something is up with me. They may be stuck in their own world but they aren't stupid. If I don't fix this mess, then they're bound to figure something out.

I take a deep breath. "So, what's up?"

He gives me a look. "You're talking to a dead person and that's the first thing you ask? You could literally ask anything and the first thing that comes to mind is ‘what’s up?’”

I feel my metaphorical hackles rise in annoyance. So, he was dead, that wasn't that big of deal. There were dead people all around my house. His dead status was nothing. Who did he think he was dealing with? I’ve seen more dead people than he could even imagine, and he was dead, so he’s probably seen quite a few ghosts.

I give him my best bitchy popular girl sneer. I don't use it often but being in the circle of friends I am, it helps to have the look in your back pocket, just in case. "You aren't the first dead person I've ever talked to...yah know."

"You mean you actually talk to some of us? Who knew you could lower yourself so?" He says sarcastically.

I can't help but roll my eyes. "You know I don't need this. You asked me for help not the other way around."

"Believe me, if I had any other options I would go to them but unfortunately you are the only one who can see me that still breathes."

His attitude rankles on my nerves. Shouldn't he be a little nicer to the person who was doing him a favor? Why was I doing him a favor again? Oh yeah, because if I don't he’ll keep making me look like a complete imbecile at school.

I sigh. "Can we get on with this? You don't want to need my help, and I don't want to have to help you, but we do. So, let’s stop bickering and try to make this as easy on each other as we can."

He doesn't say anything right away, and I begin to think he's going to argue when he finally says. "Okay, that sounds doable."

I nod, and then sit on the porch steps and rest my hands on my knees. "So, Letterman what do you need my help with?"

"Letterman?"

My face heats up in embarrassment.

Oops, that was a private nickname. I wasn't supposed to call him that out loud.

"Um, I don't …know your name so in my head I've been calling you Letterman since you wear that jacket," I say hesitantly.

I fight the embarrassing urge to hide my face. I can’t believe I let that slip.

He looks down at himself and smiles. "Ok, Spencer. My name is Spencer."

I would have never guessed that but actually, it kind of fits him. Spencer was a good name for a jock type guy.

"I'm Bailey."

"Yeah, I know. Your friends called you that."

Right, he’s been stalking me for days. I almost forgot for a second there. It’s a little unsettling that he knows more about me than I know about him. He’s been stalking and studying me for days while I've done everything I can to ignore him. He has the upper hand and I'm not a fan of that. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do to change it now.

I sigh. "So, what do you need help with?"

"My brother."

I wasn't expecting that. I don't know what I expected exactly but I didn't expect it to be about a brother. "Do you want me to tell him something?"

My mom passes messages on to loved ones all the time. It isn’t a new thing. But usually it was a parent or a wife or even a child. It made sense that he would want me to give his brother a message. And maybe it would be one of the easy ones. I’ve never talked to a loved one myself, but I saw Mom do it a lot when I was young. She still does it I’m sure, but I don’t really see it anymore.

He nods "Yes, but it's not that simple. My brother has become very jaded. He won't want to hear you."

I try to hold in the sigh that wants to escape. So much for it being easy. I think silently. "Then how am I supposed to tell him?"

"You're going to have to gain his trust first. Talk to him let him get to know you."

A chill runs down my spine. Let him get to know me? That was my worst fear, letting people in enough to really know me. They could never understand what I can do, or who I am.

I shake my head. "I don't even know your brother and if he's as jaded as you think. What makes you think he will ever trust me enough to listen?"

"He likes to act tough, but he needs this. I have to tell him something. It’s important, and we'll tell him at the right time. This is my only chance.”

I really don’t like this idea. Who is this random guy Letterman wants me to talk to? What if he’s dangerous? I don’t really know either of these guys.

"I don’t think it’s a very good idea," I say finally.

"Please just talk to him." He looks at me with pleading eyes.

Against my better judgment, I find myself starting to cave. I really don’t want to do this, but maybe I can hear him out at least. If when he’s done I’m still against it, I’ll figure out my next move then.

"Where do I even find him?" I ask in resignation.

"He goes to your school, tomorrow I'll point him out and you just have to talk to him."

My stomach drops. "M...my school? What do you mean?"

"I mean he goes to your school."

"I can’t do this," I say abruptly and stand up to leave.

"Wait what? Please it’s really important. It’s...it’s a matter of life and death.

That stops me cold. What does he mean? "Life and death?"

"I can’t really explain it ok? But it’s vitally important that I’m able to communicate with my brother…As soon as possible."

I sigh again. This could be a bad idea. I don't want to bring the two parts of me together. I’ve worked so hard to keep them separate. But Spencer (wow it feels weird to think of him as that and not Letterman.) is asking me to do something for his brother, not really for him but for someone else. How can I be that selfish? Not to mention the fact that even though he can’t tell me how it's life or death, if it really is...then how can I not help him?

I see the life that I've fought so hard for falling away. If this goes bad at school, then everyone could learn my truth and then I would be a laughing stock. I'd lose my friends and Chad. I wouldn't just be the crazy lady's daughter but I would be the crazy lady myself.

I start to sweat at the thought. I don’t want to do this. I can't risk all I've worked for and the life I have...can I?

On the other hand, Spencer doesn't have a life anymore and if he's being completely honest and it is actually life and death, if I don’t help, his brother could lose his life as well.

As much as it scares me I have to at least try. If the worst happens at least my conscience will be clear.

"Ok, but I have some rules. I don't talk to you at school unless we are alone, and I can pretend to talk on my cell, and if I ignore you it’s because it's a bad time to talk. Also, you can't make me look like an i***t in front of my friends. Okay?"

I still don’t feel good about this, but I made my choice. Let’s just hope I can live with it.

"You got a deal."

I nod.

As soon as he disappears, I relax against the side of the porch. My first interaction with a ghost in years went better than I could have imagined, but I’m not sure what I got myself into.

How am I supposed to help him? I haven’t dealt with ghosts in years and now I’m helping one say goodbye to a loved one. I have no idea what I’m doing. This could all go horribly wrong and my secret could get out.

This ghost knows my deepest fear and if things go badly he could make my life hell. If the disaster with my friends at lunch earlier taught me anything, it’s that he was playing nice all this time. If he really set his mind to it, he could ruin me.

Not to mention all that talk of life and death. I can’t even begin to imagine what he could mean but it doesn’t sound good. All these fears and worries whirl through my head as I head back inside to try and study.